


Mercy Mission

by Cheree_Cargill



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Chases, F/M, Influenza, Medical Supplies, Rebel agents, Smuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheree_Cargill/pseuds/Cheree_Cargill
Summary: Han is sick as a dog, but Leia talks him into flying her to the planet of Comeral to pick up a batch of medical supplies for the base.  Once there, they have to find a Rebel agent, avoid stormtroopers who are searching for them, get the supplies and get off the planet.   Of course, if it CAN go wrong, it WILL go wrong!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This story is Rated PG. The Star Wars characters are property of 20th Century Fox, Walt Disney Corporation, and Lucasfilm, Ltd. The rest of the story is copyright (c) 1984 Cheree Cargill. No infringement is intended on any legally existing copyright. Originally printed in the fanzine "A Tremor in the Force #8", edited by Cheree Cargill, 1984.
> 
> Winner of the Fan Quality Award as Best Star Wars short story, MediaWest*Con 5, Lansing, Michigan, 1985.

To put it mildly, Han felt like hell.

The Alliance had planted their new base on a sodden, rain-soaked planet, buffeted by a north wind that went straight to the bone, and even thermal suits and insulated buildings couldn't keep the damp chill from permeating everything. As a result, most of the base personnel were down with cases of influenza and pneumonia, and Han was no exception. His head pounded from blocked sinuses, his nose ran, his throat was raw, and now and then he was shaken by explosive, lung-ripping sneezes. To make matters worse, he had drunk up the last of his whiskey a week before and the Alliance base had the misfortune in _that_ sense to be bone dry. No supply ships had managed to get through in three months.

He burrowed deeper into the blankets on his bunk, closing his eyes and wishing a wide variety of plagues on Leia and Rieeken and the whole Alliance command for even considering this nameless ball of rock. Of _course_ the Empire ignored it as worthless - it _was_!

He sighed deeply but that only set off a bout of coughing that left him weak and dizzy. Chewie peeked in, looking concerned, and asked if there was anything he could do. Han just groaned and rolled over to face the wall, huddling deep into the blankets as chills from his fever shook him.

The Wookiee left quietly and was going back into the main cabin area when a soft beep sounded, indicating that someone was at the main hatch. He keyed it open and Leia came aboard quickly, bundled against the rainy weather. Chewie closed the hatch after her, but even that short time caused a draft to swirl about the room.

Leia shivered then took off her weather gear and looked up at the tall Wookiee. "Is he any better?" she asked.

Chewie shrugged and gave a laconic reply. He felt helpless in the face of Han's illness. The Alliance doctors, overworked by the epidemic, had told him that there was nothing to be done except for Han to stay in bed and ride it out. There was a defeated cast to the Wookiee's shoulders.

Leia patted his shaggy paw and smiled a little. "Has he taken anything? Have you gotten him to eat?"

Chewie answered negatively to both questions and Leia's features settled into a determined expression. "Okay, then. We'll just have to force him to help himself. First, let me see your medicine cabinet. You must have something in there. Then we'll get some hot broth down him and then..." She trailed off, muttering to herself, as she followed Chewie to the _Falcon's_ first aid chest.

After some poking around, the princess came up with two tablets of a popular pain-killer, then drew a cup of water from the galley. "Fix him a bowl of soup now. I'm not going to let him wallow in misery!"

She marched down the hall and into Han's cabin, where he was visible only as a non‑descript lump in the mussed blankets. "Okay, fly boy," she announced cheerfully. "Up and at 'em."

There was a deep groan and a stirring from under the covers. "Go away, Leia," said a hoarse voice.

"Come on, Han, time for your medicine."

"I don't want any medicine. Go away."

Her mouth tightened in exasperation. "You won't start feeling better unless you take something. Now sit up and take these pills."

"Get lost."

She reached down and yanked the blanket off his head, as he was doing his best to curl up into a ball. Offended, he rolled over onto his back and fixed her with an affronted glare. The effect was lost, however, when his face contorted for an instant and a violent sneeze exploded from him. Leia delicately side-stepped the fallout and handed him a tissue from a box at his bedside.

"See?" she said. "Now, come on, Han. I'm only trying to help. Take these pills. They'll make you feel better."

Too miserable to protest anymore, he obediently downed the two chalky tablets and lay back with a groan. She laid a hand on his warm forehead and stood for a moment appraisingly. "A little fever," she decided. "Not too bad, though." The door slid back and Chewie entered, gingerly balancing a bowl of steaming liquid on a tray. "Ahhh," Leia smiled approvingly. "This will fix you right up."

Han screwed up his face and muttered, "Shit."

"Thanks, Chewie," the princess smiled, taking the bowl of broth and the spoon off the tray and sitting down on the edge of Han's bunk.

"No," Han groaned peevishly as she poised the first spoonful. "I don't want any--" He never completed the sentence for Leia deftly had the soup in his mouth before he could protest. He had no option but to swallow, then lay back staring malevolently at her. "That wasn't funny."

"I didn't intend for it to be," she answered, unruffled. "But I do intend for you to eat this broth and, if I have to get Chewie to sit on you while I pour it down your throat, then I will!"

"Oh, izzat so?" Solo growled, but one look at the Wookiee, standing with arms folded and blue eyes steady, shut him up. It was clear whose side the big lunk was on this time. Han subsided with ill grace. He submitted as Leia spoon-fed him the rest of the broth, even admitting to himself that it tasted pretty good, though he did a good deal of muttering throughout the process.

When she was satisfied, she set the bowl and spoon back on the tray and rose from the bed. "Now, get some sleep and let the medicine work. I guarantee you'll feel better." She started to tuck the blankets up around him but Han snarled and jerked them away, pointedly turning over to face the wall.

One corner of Leia's mouth turned up in a knowing smile as she gathered up the tray. "I'll be back," she said cheerfully.

"Goody," came the unenthusiastic reply from the blankets.

Leia shook her head in amusement and she and Chewie exited, the Wookiee turning out the lights as he went. In the galley, Leia fed the bowl and spoon into the cleanser and looked up reassuringly at Chewbacca. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. I'll look in tomorrow."

Looking frazzled, Chewie woofed his thanks and opened the hatchway for Leia.

* * *

Han was surprised to admit that he _did_ feel better upon waking. He got up, scratched amidst his wildly disarrayed hair, and put his robe on over his thermal underwear, then padded in his sock feet to the galley.

Chewie was already up, puttering over the food processor with some of the abominable hash Wookiees were so fond of. He glanced at Solo's appearance and grunted.

"And a good morning to you, too, fuzzball!" Han growled back, but was unable to elaborate as a mild coughing fit took him. When he had regained his breath, except for a few residual, half-hearted little hacks, he decided that he didn't have the strength to argue with the Wookiee and went over to explore the kitchen. "Any kleven left?"

Chewie shrugged and continued to stir the odd-smelling mixture. Han gave him a sour look. "My! Sociable this morning, aren't we?" The Wookiee declined to answer so Han turned and got a cup out of the small cabinet and punched up some of the dark, aromatic liquid from the food processor. It was a little too strong for his tastes but he didn't feel like re-programming the damn thing right now.

A beep from the main control panel signaled that they had a visitor and Chewie went to see who it was, returning a few minutes later with Princess Leia in tow. Han's features immediately settled into a stubborn scowl.

"Well, you look much better today!" Leia announced, pleased. "I'm glad to see you back on your feet!"

"Cut the crap, Leia. Whaddaya want?"

She stopped smiling and her brows lowered over her dark eyes. "I just brought you some breakfast, smartmouth. I happen to care whether or not you're sick!"

Han faltered for a second, taken by surprise. "Well … uh ... hell, I'm sorry, Leia. I thought you _wanted_ something."

Only slightly ameliorated, Leia scrutinized him for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, come on and eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

She had set it up on the gaming table, not a big breakfast and mostly the stuff the mess hall dished out, but he was still touched by her concern. Sipping at the little glass of juice, he asked, "Did you fix any of this?"

She colored slightly and busied herself with opening the little container of buttersynth for his griddle cakes. "I got you the juice," she said, not looking at him. "It's the last on the base. And I made sure the sausages were cooked the way you like them."

He smiled warmly at her, his mood lightening with amazing speed. _Well ..._ He thought. _Maybe the iceberg is melting!_

He reached out and took her hand for a moment. "Thanks, Leia. I appreciate it. I really do."

She searched his face for a moment, looking for the sarcasm that was bound to be there, but found only something akin to wonder and affection in his hazel eyes. Maybe something else... Something she was afraid to identify, a need that made her heart constrict.

She pulled her hand out of his and said brusquely, "Eat your breakfast."

He did so, savoring each bite, feeling better with each mouthful. When he finally pushed away his empty plate and picked up the cup of fresh kleven Leia had brought him from the galley -- brewed exactly to his tastes, he noted -- Han had begun to think that maybe life wasn't so bad, after all.

"Thanks, Leia," he said, smiling. "You can take over for Gruesome here, anytime!"

Chewbacca snorted in mock disgust and returned without further comment to his own breakfast of Wookiee hash, which he was thoughtfully eating on the other side of the room.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Han," Leia answered in a tone of voice that indicated she was about to get around to the real purpose of her visit. Han's alert systems instantly kicked in. He waited, his eyes narrowing. Leia continued, "I'm glad you're feeling better ... Because we need you to do a little job for us."

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. Who's 'us' and what sort of 'little job'?"

"For the Alliance -- the base here. We need you to fly to Comeral and bring back a load of supplies for us."

Han set his cup down and got up from the banquette. "Your Worship, if I had the strength, I'd boot your little bottom clear to Comeral myself. As it is -- you can get it off my ship. I'm going back to bed."

"Han, we need you!"

"Yeah, sure. You got a whole base full of hotshot pilots and ships. I shoulda known better than to fall for your coming over here, playing Nannie Nursemaid. Forget it."

"Han! There is not a single pilot on this entire base who is in any shape to fly -- except you! We need those supplies badly! This thing has turned into an epidemic!"

"Well, I'm part of it, Your Earnestness. I feel like shit myself."

"You're in better condition than anyone else. Please, Han, we're desperate. Medical supplies are almost gone. People may die if we don't get those supplies."

Solo stopped in the corridor leading to the cabins and hung his head, sighing, his back to her.

" _Please_ ," Leia said again, imploringly.

He didn't answer for a long moment, then resignation seemed to settle on his shoulders like a mantle. "All right," he said at last.

"Thank you, Han," Leia said with genuine feeling.

"Whadda I have to do?"

"Meet our contact at Comeral Port. He'll have the supplies waiting. All we have to do is load them and come back. As simple as that."

Solo looked back at her with a wry expression. "Why do those sound like famous last words?"

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Han sneezed violently, blew his nose with a tissue from the box he'd stashed beside the pilot's seat, and said, "Okay, Chewie, power up the main thruster."

The Wookiee complied, expertly bringing the ship to life. Leia sat in the navigator's seat, feeding in the coordinates Han gave her while he ran through the pre-flight check.

It was raining -- again -- as the boosters lifted them smoothly out of the bay and into the open. The ship bucked as the cross-wind hit it and rain spattered against the cockpit viewports. Han growled; that was bad. He hated flying through storms. The ship invariably iced up on its way out of the atmosphere and it took at fancy maneuver or two to de-ice it, and today he just didn't feel like it. Of course, the ship's skin was equipped with de-icing coils, but it took a long time for them to process and Solo was usually in a hurry, so he rarely bothered with them.

True to form, rime covered the viewports within minutes of lifting off and the ship handled sluggishly from its extra weight of ice. "Hang on," Han said and pitched the ship into a quick, steep dive, skipping like a stone through the upper atmosphere.

The friction quickly heated the hull, vaporizing the ice coating, and Han flung her back into space before the ice could reform, leaving a shower of crystalline shards sparkling in their wake.

Behind him, Leia said in a rather weak voice, "Can we go back and get my stomach?"

Han felt a perverse sense of pleasure. "What's the matter, Your Worship? Just a teeny bit too rough for you?"

Wisely, she didn't reply but favored him with a sour glance then turned her attention to the navicomp. "Jump point in 6.87 minutes."

"Check," he said, his mouth still pulled into a lop-sided grin. The minutes ticked by uneventfully and they made the jump with no further ado. "Time to Comeral, Chewie?"

The Wookiee checked his coordinates and .grunted softly.

"Okay," Han said, suddenly sounding tired. "Set the alarm for end of jump. I'm goin' back to bed."

Leia watched him with concern as he pushed .himself wearily out of the pilot's seat and plodded m the cockpit. "Han?" she asked.

He waved a hand at her. "Later, sweetheart. I'm just too tired."

She turned her chair and watched him until he was out of sight around the bend in the corridor across the common room from the cockpit. She had never seen Han like this, shoulders slumped and looking defeated. Perhaps she'd pushed him too far; perhaps he wasn't in any better shape than the rest of them. No, she decided quickly, steeling herself. Han was their only hope at the moment. She mustn't let sentimentality interfere. Truth be told, she didn't feel very well herself. She had fortified herself with antibiotics and vitamin supplements and iron determination and she was going to see this mission through. She could collapse later.

Chewie had been watching her with perceptive eyes and now emitted a soft moan. She turned her attention to him, suddenly aware that her mind had been wandering, and smiled her thanks. "No, I'm okay, Chewie. Thanks. I'll go make some kleven. I think I'm developing a layer of permafrost from that constant cold wind. Want any?"

At his negative growl, she left the cockpit for the galley and he watched her for a long moment. The slight shiver she had suppressed hadn't escaped his notice. So, the fever was upon her, too. He'd have to keep an eye on both young humans, something that made him utter a terse grunt to himself. This wasn't going to be a pleasant trip

* * *

The drop from hyperspace was uneventful and they circled into orbit around Comeral with no trouble. Ground control cleared them to land at Comeral Port and, as they started the approach, they studiously avoided the Star Destroyer making its leisurely swing from behind the planet's darkened limb.

* * *

"Where the hell is he? I" Han demanded for the third time, pacing in agitation before the ship's lowered ramp.

Leia sat in the hatchway, her knees drawn up under her chin, watching as Solo kicked up dust in the docking bay. She had a pounding headache and Han was making it worse. "I don't know," she responded, laying her forehead down on her crossed arms. "Perhaps he was delayed."

"Yeah, delayed permanently, I'll bet," Solo groused. He abruptly noticed Leia's position and stopped. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she answered shortly. "Just a headache."

"Welcome to the club," he muttered and resumed his pacing.

Chewbacca appeared in the hatchway, towering over the woman's small form, and surveyed the scene, uttering a mournful howl.

"I don't like it either, Chewie," Solo answered. "Somethin's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong," Leia interjected, raising her head.

"Listen, sweetheart, I got a knot in my stomach that lets me know when a deal's gone sour and it's giving me a beauty of a bellyache right now."

She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Okay," she said in resignation. "He should have been here by now." Abruptly, she rose and disappeared into the ship, only to return a few minutes later strapping on her sidearm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Han demanded.

"To see if I can contact him. I want to find out what's going on."

"Like hell," the Corellian responded. "If your drop has been intercepted, likely as not there's an Imperial patrol waiting there with open arms."

"I'll take that chance."

Han blocked her path down the ramp with a stubborn, arm-crossed stance. "Listen, Your Worship, personally I don't care how many risks you take, but I don't have the energy or the inclination to mount a rescue mission if you get caught."

She stared at him for a moment, stone-faced. "Get out of my way," she ordered.

"You're not going into town."

"Get out of my way," she repeated.

The duel lasted for another minute, then Han said, "I'm coming with you."

"Fine. Now, get out of my way."

"Wait while I get some tissues." He stepped around her and trudged up the ramp then came back blowing his nose noisily. He paused to sneeze decisively, wipe his nose and then turn to Chewie. "Close her up, pal, and keep an eye peeled for the guy. You know the routine. We'll be back soon."

The Wookiee grunted laconically and watched unhappily as the princess and the smuggler left the docking bay. He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

After taking a groundcab into the entertainment section of town, the two began cruising the main drag, ostensibly bar-hopping but checking each place thoroughly for their missing contact. If he could not make the rendezvous, this was the agreed meeting place. They had seen some Imperial troops, but all had appeared to be on leave, enjoying the myriad facilities of Joy Street and paying no attention to the crowds of spacers and tourists that abounded. Han and Leia did their best to blend into the diverse, noisy throng. After about an hour, Han called Chewie to ask if their man had shown up yet? The answer was no and the Wookiee expressed concern.

"We're being careful, pal. I'll keep checking in." Han closed the comlink and turned to his waiting companion. "Okay, whereto now?"

"The Tipsy Gypsy, I think," she answered. "Then Madame Jenzu's if he's not there."

"Sweetheart, we ain't gonna find him," Solo answered with patience, as if explaining something to a child. "I tell you he's been picked up."

Leia ignored his tone of voice. "I want to make sure. Then I've still got to find a way to get those medical supplies."

The cantina in question proved to be another washout but, as they were leaving, a young red-haired pleasure girl sidled her way up to Han.

"Hi, spacer," she said, slipping her hand around his arm. "Want to have some fun?"

"Uh, sorry, darlin'," he stammered, aware of Leia's glare and attempting to remove the girl from such close proximity. "But, as you can see, I've got a lady with me."

She refused to be dislodged and a desperate sort of light entered her blue-green eyes. "Oh, she won't mind if you slip away for a few minutes, spacer. I can show you a good time."

"I certainly _will_ mind," Leia grated hotly, stepping into the fray.

The girl flicked her tense gaze toward Leia, all the while maintaining her tight smile and her grip on Solo's arm. In a barely audible whisper, she asked, "Princess Leia?"

Startled, the Alderaani stopped in her tracks and gave a terse nod. The hooker looked back up at Han. In a normal voice, the girl said silkily, "I won't keep him long, honey. But he's just too good to pass up, aren't you, love?" Then, her voice dropping to a whisper again, she hissed, "Pacu sent me. We gotta talk. "

Han let his mouth slide into a lascivious grin. "Well, whattaya think, Lindy-babe?" he asked, addressing Leia. "I'll bet she could find someone for you, too, huh?"

The Princess struggled to keep the revulsion off her face while attempting to play along with the situation. Finally, she answered, "All right, Hurd. I could use a break from your so-called lovemaking. I'd _like_ to try someone with a little finesse, for a change."

Han looked wounded but the girl replied, "Don't worry, honey. Madame Jenzu's has something for every taste. Come on, spacer, before I jump that hot bod right here in the street."

The three set off toward the institution in question, unaware that a passing Imperial officer had stopped and done a double-take. After studying their retreating forms, he stepped into fairly quiet doorway and took out a comlink.

* * *

Leia felt distinctly uncomfortable as they entered the baroque foyer of Madame Jenzu's. The decor was heavy with velvets, silk brocades and incense that didn't quite mask a subtle, unpleasant smell. She had never had occasion to visit a brothel before, although Han seemed right at home.

They were approached by the Madame herself, a big, broad-shouldered woman, still possessed of a firm chin line and a high bust, which was generously displayed in a jeweled gown. "What have you brought us, Nellan?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over Solo's torso, then glancing at Leia. "Shall I get Dinall for the lady here?"

"No," Nellan replied, taking the princess' arm and pulling her close. "They're more interested in a little threesome to start off with."

Han grinned eagerly and Leia managed to smile at the prospect.

"Fine, fine," the proprietress answered, all business. "Fifty credits -- each -- for half an hour. Payment up front."

Han's face fell. He didn't have that much cash on him. In fact, he didn't have much at all, having left most of his money locked in the _Falcon's_ safe, as usual. Looking disgusted, Leia pulled out an Imperial credit chit and handed it over. It was forged, of course, drawn on a non-existent account at the Bank of the Imperium, but the Alliance had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure that the encoded information in the little card would guarantee that its holder had a good credit rating, paid her bills on time and was a customer of long-standing and high interest rates.

The transaction clicked through without trouble and Nellan led her two tricks up the lift to the third floor. The doorway to her room opened readily to her palm touch and closed behind them with a soft hush.

Leia was distinctly nervous as she looked around the sparse room, which contained nothing but a large bed and a chair in one corner. There was a window and a doorway that probably led into a 'fresher.

Nellan put a finger to her lips and stepped to a combox by the door. With a fingernail, she pried it away from the wall, then slipped a tiny clip on a wire and flipped a breaker. With that, she sighed in relief and turned back to them. "Okay, now we can talk. My name is Annelle Benzin. Pacu Benzin is my brother. He's been arrested but he sent word to me that you'd be coming in. I had a hell of a time finding you. The supplies are in a warehouse at the port. Pacu gave me the building number, but I wasn't able to get the passkey or anything else."

"Who arrested him?" Leia wanted to know. "Imperials?"

"I don't know. I think so, although the local cops may have been the actual ones to nab him."

"They're probably well into his interrogation by now," Organa muttered, almost to herself. "We'll have to hurry."

"Can we spring him?" Han addressed the princess.

Nellan interrupted. "The main thing for you is to get those supplies and get off this planet as fast as you can."

"How is it that I don't know you?" Leia asked.

"For security reasons. Most of the people in our cell don't know the others, so they can't betray them unconsciously," Nellan replied. "My job here is to get information out of Imperials who are down for shore leave." She smiled a bit ferally. "You'd be surprised what a man'll reveal at the right moment."

Han gave an involuntary laugh, unsuccessfully stifled, which he turned into a cough. Leia shot a killing glare at him. He really did begin to cough then and was forced to turn away, a hand over his mouth until he got it under control. Pulling out a tissue from a vest pocket, he wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

"Are you all right?" Nellan asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just a cold," Han replied. "I'm okay."

Leia was watching him, too. "We'd better get going. Where are the medical supplies?"

"Building 12-A, South Port Warehouse District," Nellan answered. "That's all I know. How are you going to get them out?"

"We have absolutely no idea," Han responded. "We'll figure that out as we go."

"Then let's go," Leia said pointedly.

Nellan glanced at her ring chromo. "Not yet. You still have time paid for and it would look suspicious if you left early. Both of you, lie down on the bed."

"What?!" Leia demanded.

"Lie down. You've both got to look like you've had a tumble," Nellan answered. "And make sure you sound like it, too. I've got to take the splice off the combox."

Han grinned and stretched himself out on the bed, holding up his open arms, "C'mere, darling," he invited the princess.

With distaste and suspicion, she lay down beside him as Nellan disconnected the little husher. Han immediately pulled the Princess to him and kissed her thoroughly. Leia struggled, her protest muffled by Han's mouth. Nellan bounced in between them and, as Leia jerked away from the Corellian, the prostitute warned her against any outcry with a finger to her lips.

Nellan nestled atop Solo and bent over to kiss him. "Mmmm, I was right, spacer. You _are_ as good as you look. And, you, lady -- ohh, you really know the right spots!"

"Oh, yeah!" Han groaned, playing his part to the hilt. "Baby, that feels great! Do that again. Oh, yeah -- right there!"

Han and Nellan smothered giggles and even Leia couldn't help cracking a little. After about a half hour of roleplaying and climactic noises, Nellan arose and motioned them up.

"Okay, gentles, that's it. Unless you want to pay for another half hour."

"What? It can't be time already!" Han protested.

"Check your chrom," Nellan answered. "Shall I start the meter running again?"

"No," Leia said crossly. "This place is too expensive for what you get. Come on, Hurd. Get your clothes on and let's get out of here."

Nellan quietly and expertly mussed their hair a bit and pulled and tugged at their clothing, suggesting a hasty redressing. At last she was satisfied and nodded. She took each of their hands and pressed them with her own, whispering, "Good luck."

The two rebels went out into the hallway and took the lift to the ground floor. Leia steadfastly refused to look at Han, her cheeks brighter than usual, which caused the Corellian great amusement.

The lift slowed to a stop, then the doors hissed open to reveal an Imperial officer and a squad of stormtroopers.

For a split second, both parties simply stared at each other, then the officer pointed at Han and declared, "That's them!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Shit!" Han responded and slammed the emergency close switch. The doors snapped shut and Solo hit the "up" button to the third floor, the doors to the lift reverberating with the troopers attempts to open them.

As the doors parted on the third floor, Han grabbed Leia's hand and they leaped out into the hallway, nearly colliding with Nellan.

"Quick!" Han demanded. "Is there another way out? We've got troopers on our tails!"

"This way," the girl answered and the trio pelted down the hallway toward the back of the building. At the end of the hall, Nellan flung open an old-style door to reveal a dark staircase. "Quick -- down here!"

The three rebels bolted through the door, Han catching a glimpse of troopers spilling out of the lift at the far end of the hall. Plaster and wallboard exploded beside him just as he slammed the door behind him.

Leia and Nellan were already nearly to the first floor and Solo closed the distance between them by taking the stairs several at a stride. Together, they spilled out into a filthy alley along with a cloud of dust.

Han's eyes immediately teared up and he began to sneeze violently, and this in turn triggered a coughing attack. One hand over his mouth, he waved them on with the other then stumbled after the two women, fishing in his vest for a tissue to wipe his streaming eyes.

He bumped into Leia at the mouth of the alley, where she and Nellan had halted in the shadows. "What is it?" he asked thickly, his nose now red and thoroughly stopped up again.

"Troopers," Leia said in a low voice.

Across the street, white-shelled stormtroopers were standing an obvious vigil. The crowds of merrymakers along the street had not stopped -­ indeed, with the coming of sundown, their number had doubled -- but they were carefully avoiding the troops as they went about their endeavors.

Noise reverberated from the fire door at the end of the building behind them. "Move!" Han said, shoving the two women from their hiding place.

At that precise moment, a group of revelers passed in front of them and Han neatly inserted the little party into its midst, his arms around both Leia and Nellan. Laughing as merrily as the rest of the group, they strolled away from Madame Jenzu's as the company of stormtroopers thundered out of the alleyway behind them and screeched to a halt, looking both ways in search of their prey. Han veered off with his companions into the next convenient portal, this one a _natta_ -lounge with live entertainment.

Inside, they had to pause while their eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness, the only illumination coming from the spotlight centered on the near-naked, undulating dancer on the stage. The air was heavy with the smoke of _natta_ -pipes and Leia's eyes and sinuses protested the assault by the drug vapors. She blinked back tears and covered her nose and mouth with one hand in a futile attempt to breathe easier.

A shape materialized out of the darkness before them, the obsequious owner, an oily little man with a pronounced stoop. "Good evening, gentles. Couch for three?"

"Mezza, it's me -- Nellan," the prostitute answered in a low voice. "Oh ... What do you want?" "We need help. Snoopies on our tails." "And why should I cross the law for you, hmmrn?" Nellan insinuated herself very close to the club owner and ran a finger suggestively down his neck. "Freebies ... and whatever you want from the menu."

Mezza let one side of his wide mouth slide up into an unpleasant smile, then glanced at Han and Leia. "Him?" he asked speculatively.

Han bristled, but Nellan interjected smoothly, "He's not on the menu ... and neither is she. But _1_ am ... and I could get Timbet and Epin to play. How about it?"

Mezza hesitated then agreed. "All right. Come with me."

Nellan relaxed and motioned to her companions to hurry. Quickly but carefully, they made their way through the club, stepping around the floor couches and _natta_ -vessels. Mezza led them to one side of the stage, where Han paused for an appreciative instant to admire the buxom young dancer, whose wispy starbreeze veils had finally dissolved away into nothing. Then, Leia gave an angry, impatient jerk on his arm and he moved after them through a heavy black curtain.

Behind the stage, there was more light and the drug fumes decreased significantly. A couple of other dancers were waiting to go on and a bored-looking lighting technician slumped on a stool by his panel, pouring over a tout-sheet in his lap.

Nellan was once again in conversation with Mezza. Han decided that the proprietor looked even greasier here than in the dark club.

"We need outa here," the girl was saying. "There're Imps after us and they're probably searching systematically now. My friends here need to get to the Port right away.

Mezza looked sullen. "You said snoopies. I don't want any trouble with Imps."

Han stepped up and made himself as tall and menacing as possible, towering over the little man. "Listen, pal, you're gonna have more trouble than you know what to do with--"

"Try it," Mezza shot back and the light glinted off a short blade that had appeared in his hand.

Nellan pushed between them. "Stop it! There's no time! Please, Mezza, help us. I promise you I'll make it worth it."

The club owner backed down, sullen. "Okay. I'll see that you do. Take my car. It's parked out back. Here's the key. And, you--" He jabbed a finger at Han's chest. "—don't ever show your ugly face in this club again!"

"Don't worry, buddy-boy," Solo replied with equal loathing. "I'll choke first."

"That can be arranged," Mezza sneered.

" _Please_ ," Nellan implored, while Leia pleaded, "Come _on!_ "

There was a commotion from the front of the club and Mezza paused for one last glare at Solo before exiting through the heavy curtains to deal with the Imperial search.

The three rebels went out the back door into the alleyway, where a long black car sat gleaming. Han stuck the key into its slot and waiting impatiently as the locks clicked open.

"Let me sit up front with you," Nellan said to him. "I know the shortest way into the warehouse district. I can direct you."

That was agreeable and Han slid into the driver's seat, Leia riding lookout in the spacious back. The fine engine purred into life immediately and Han maneuvered them out into the street, where the vehicle traffic moved slowly through the entertainment district streets. Through the darkly tinted windows, they could see Imperial troops everywhere, an obvious search underway, and within three blocks, they encountered a roadblock being set up by the local police, under the direction of an Imperial officer.

"Trouble," Han commented. Traffic was too thick to be able to cut and run; they were blocked in on all sides.

Leia had been fingering a maroon-colored satin cloak that was in the backseat – no doubt belonging to Mezza – when she abruptly ordered, "Nellan, come back here and help me."

Puzzled, the girl obediently crawled over into the back seat of the limousine. Han swiveled in his seat to see what was going on but was curtly commanded to turn around and keep his eyes on the road. He snorted in amusement and did as he was told, listening attentively to the sounds issuing from the back seat.

As the car moved up slowly with traffic, Leia finally said, "All right. I'm ready. Han, when they get to us, just roll the window down a little and act angry at the delay. Then let me take over."

"Okay, Your Worship. You're the boss." He glanced over his shoulder to find the Princess wearing Nellan's clothes and headdress and wrapped in the maroon cloak, her lower face covered by a silk veil. She presented an exotic and beautiful sight, suggestive but not the blatant eroticism that Nellan flaunted. She was settled back into the luxurious seat as if on a throne and her being radiated imperial power. Nellan was nowhere in sight. Han had to admit real admiration at her plan and turned back to the wheel, chuckling.

After a few minutes, they moved to the head of the line and a stormtrooper came up and tapped on the window. Han opened it only an inch or so and demanded, "What's the meaning of this? How dare you delay My Lady's passage!"

Unimpressed, the trooper ordered, "Roll down this window so I can see you and hand over your papers."

"I'll do no such thing!" Han shot back. "Don't you know The Lady Alita's car when you see it? Now move aside!"

"Open up and hand over your papers," the trooper repeated.

"What is going on!?" came Leia's strident voice from the back seat. She slid down the window in back and stuck her head out. "Get out of my way at once!"

The trooper turned to her. "Lady, I must see your papers--"

" _I have had enough of this!!_ " Leia declared and shoved the car door open with fury. She planted herself squarely before the startled trooper, who instinctively brandished his rifle. Han tensed for action, but Leia shoved the weapon away, more incensed than ever. "HOW _DARE_ YOU THREATEN ME!!" she screeched. "Where is your officer!!"

The trooper looked around helplessly to find the officer in question hastening to the scene, alerted by the commotion. He was a young man, probably with his first command, and Leia transferred her attack to him. The dressing down she gave him left him pale and speechless, unprepared to deal with the outraged indignation of aristocratic inconvenience. By the time her choler had at last reached a crescendo, the young officer was thoroughly cowed.

"Please, My Lady, I am only following orders--"

"Your superior will hear of this outrage! Now open this roadblock and _get out of my WAY!_ '"

"Yes, My Lady. Please, forgive me for the delay," he begged.

Her eyes blazing, Leia pinned him with one last, blistering glare, then flounced back to her limousine. She stopped beside the back door and stared expectantly at the stormtrooper standing there. After an awkward hesitation, he obediently opened the door for her and then closed it gently after her.

"Drive on," the Princess frostily ordered her chauffeur as the window slid up into place.


	5. Chapter 5

Han touched his index finger to his forehead in acknowledgement and moved the big car on through the barricade and into the night. When they were safely away, he broke out in laughter and commented, "Great Gods of Gorlyon, Leia! Remind me never to make you mad!"

"That was too close," Leia responded weakly from the back.

"Close?! You were great!"

"We're just lucky that the officer was a young man," she sighed. "A more experienced officer might not have fallen for it."

There was a thumping sound from the back seat and Leia said, "oh!" and raised the seat cushion beside her, revealing a concealed compartment. Nellan popped up, her red hair mussed around her pretty face and not a stitch on. The car swerved slightly as Han got a flash of skin in the rearview mirror, then he resolutely directed his eyes to the road before him, allowing the women behind him to redress in their usual clothes.

Nellan directed him onto the main flyway and they headed south toward the spaceport. Evening rush hour traffic had begun to thin out and they made good time. After about twenty minutes, they turned off into a section of low, blocky warehouses and then spent some time locating Building 12-A. It was a non-descript cinderblock structure, painted blue and white, the paint beginning to peel. Han parked the big speeder in the shadows next to it and they proceeded on foot to the doorway on the corner, which Nellan indicated was the one they sought.

As the women stood lookout, Han examined the on the door then went back to the car and rummaged around in the storage compartment. He emerged with the small, standard tool kit and set to work tinkering with the mechanism on the door. It was delicate work and his lack of progress was punctuated by a long creative string of oaths and maledictions, growing more pungent as time passed.

At last he stood and slammed the probe he was using to the ground. "Shit a brick!" he declared and kicked the tool as hard as he could. It flew up and ricocheted off the building with a sharp clang, and Han picked up a wrench and threw it into the darkness with fury, venting his frustration with a wordless roar.

Startled, Leia rushed over to him and demanded, "Han! What's wrong?!"

He shook his head and put one hand over his eyes for a moment to recollect his composure. His sinuses were stopped up again and he had a raging headache and, judging from the clamminess of his skin, probably more than a touch of fever. "It's the lock, Leia. Your buddy has the door locked with a goddamned fusion set. If we go any further trying to open it or use force on it, the device will go off and this whole block will be just one big smokin' hole about 10 seconds from now."

Nellan made a small sound, her eyes big, and Leia stiffened at the pronouncement. At last, she collected herself and answered, "Well, then, there's just one thing to do."

"And what's that, Your Worshipness?"

"We'll have to rescue Pacu Benzin and get him to open it for us."

* * *

The fortress that was the detention center rose like a dun-colored mountain on the city's outskirts, impregnable, silent and eternal. Its facade was unbroken by windows or ornamentation, save for a muted design worked into the stone itself. Headquarters for the local police and the Royal Port Guard, it now also housed a contingent of Imperial stormtroopers, two of whom were standing prominently at guard before the center's large entryway.

Expertly surveying the scene, Han shook his head. "There's no way," he decided.

"There's a way," Leia replied, her face set in stony determination. "It's just a matter of finding which one."

"Wait," said Nellan from behind them. "I've got an idea."

* * *

Nellan's plan could not be implemented until early the next morning and Leia had reluctantly let herself by persuaded that there was nothing more they could do that night. She and Han returned to the _Falcon_ after dropping Nellan off at her apartment building. Han had insisted on escorting her up and checking her apartment thoroughly before leaving her alone there. But all had been quiet and they encountered no further trouble as they returned to the port and their docking bay.

Chewie was nearly frantic with relief, despite Han's contacting him earlier on the comlink. After sealing the ship up tight, they all retired to their respective cabins for some much-needed sleep. Solo downed several cold remedy tablets and a cup of hot _sehz_ -tea before climbing wearily into his bunk, bone­tired and achy. The Alliance would pay for this, he vowed as he sank rapidly into sleep. Oh, yes, they would pay ...

Dawn had just begun to pink the sky when the hull alarm went off, jerking Han from a strange, surreal dream -- something about Leia and a harem outfit -- and sending him pelting toward the common area dressed only in his undershorts, snatching the big Kletts-Rushak blaster from its holster on his way. Chewie was on his heels and Leia appeared a minute later, her hair down and mussed, and rapidly pulling on a robe over her pajamas.

"What is it?" she demanded. Han ignored her as he keyed the outside hatch intercom. "State your name and business," he ordered tightly into the speaker. "And it better be good!"

"Captain Solo?" came back a female voice. "It's Nellan. I've got the stuff."

They all visibly relaxed and Solo did a quick scan that showed the young woman to be alone. "Okay, let her in," he said to Chewie as he ducked back to his cabin to grab his robe.

It was a totally changed Nellan that came aboard. Gone were the pleasure girl veils and seductive air. Instead, she was dressed in white coveralls and work shoes, her red hair pinned into a utilitarian knot and covered with a cap.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully to the tousled group. "Did I wake you?"

"No, that's okay," Han replied sardonically. "We were asleep anyway."

"Oh, sorry," Nellan answered. "But we need to get going pretty soon. I got the truck and coveralls for the two of you. We'll have a better chance of springing Pacu during the breakfast rush. The shift'll be changing and there'll be a lot of kitchen people in the detention areas, bringing up breakfast trays for the prisoners."

"Speaking of..." Han yawned and scratched his head. "Chewie, rustle us up some grub while I hit the can. And some kleven, too -- I need to get my blood pumping." He shuffled off down the corridor and disappeared around the curve.

Leia sighed. "It _is_ early. We'll hurry, Nellan. Have some kleven while we're getting ready." She patted Chewie's arm and started after Han, then stopped and turned back. "Oh, I forgot. This is Chewbacca, Han's co-pilot and partner. I think you'll find him a lot better mannered' than Captain Solo any day of the week. Chewie, this is Annelle Benzin."

"How do you do, Chewbacca?" Nellan answered politely.

The Wookiee responded with an equally polite honk and gestured toward the galley. * _kleven?*_ he asked.

"Thank you. That would be very nice. Can I help you in there?"

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

The service alley at the rear of the detention center was not much different from any other Han had had occasion to visit. Huge industrial trash receptacles lined up on one side, awaiting pickup, each exuding that subtle miasma of rotting garbage unique to such places. Obscene graffiti decorated the brick security wall that hemmed in the alleyway and Han spotted several large furry creatures slinking around the shadows behind the dumpsters -- the local version of rats, he supposed.

All in all, he'd been in worse places.

With care, he backed the bakery truck -­ "Granny Dal's Bread -- Fresh as a Summer Day!" (and he didn't ask Nellan where she had gotten it) -­ up to the kitchen entrance, then shut off the ignition and got out, whistling. Nonchalantly, he strolled to the steel kitchen door and pressed the buzzer. In a minute, a woman's voice answered, "Yeah?"

"Bread man," Solo replied.

"Bread? You weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow."

"Look, lady, I just drive a truck. My schedule says I'm supposed to be here today and here I am. If you're refusing delivery, then I'll have to call dispatch and see what they wanna do about it. But, frankly..." His voice took on a confidential air. "... if I know them clowns in dispatch, you might not get no more bread 'til next week!"

"Well..." The kitchen matron hesitated then said, "What the hell. We can always use the extra stuff. Show me your ID badge."

Han fished out the little plastic card Nellan had provided and poked it into the computer slot next to the door. After a few seconds, it popped back out again and the door unlatched, then was pushed open by a short, dumpy, hard-looking woman dressed in food-spattered coveralls.

"You'll have to do the unloading yourself," she informed him without preamble. "We're right in the middle of serving breakfast and I don't have anyone to help you."

Sure, no big deal," Han shrugged, as if he heard the same story every day. "Just prop the door open, will ya? This is gonna take three or four runs."

The kitchen matron hesitated again, as this was clearly in violation of security measures, but pragmatism got the better of her. She had too much to do to be bothered with constantly opening the door for a delivery man.

"Okay, but make it snappy."

"Hey, speed's my middle name!" Solo assured her. "Just sign here." He presented her with the invoice and she hastily initialed it and turned back to supervising the confusion that reigned in the kitchen, getting the breakfast trays sorted and dispatched to all their different destinations.

In the midst of it all, no one noticed the two women who slipped in the open door and joined the kitchen personnel delivering breakfast trays.

Han began to leisurely unload trays of bread, his calm, slightly bored exterior belying the nervousness underneath.

* * *

Procedure had it that meals were delivered by teams -- one pushing the heavily-laden cart, the other sliding the trays through access slots in the cell doors. By the time the last of the meal trays were delivered, it was time to start a second pass, picking up the used trays and reloading them onto the cart, then returning them to the kitchen for cleaning. It was hard work and low pay and the turnover in employment was fairly high. There were always new faces in the crowd of workers and no one paid much attention to the two women trundling one of the breakfast carts out of the kitchen.

"How are we going to find out where he is?" hissed Leia when they were well down the corridor toward the elevators.

"I need a couple of minutes' access to the computer once we get into the cell blocks," Nellan whispered back.

"Where did you get the access code for the police computer?"

Nellan grinned. "Same place I got the truck and the ID's."

Leia shut up. She knew that the underground resistance movement on Comeral was extensive and she appreciated the need for secrecy. Still, her heart pounded with increased strength as they went deeper into the security facility.

They went down one side of the massive cell block, delivering their trays, then back up the other side. As they neared the end of their first circle and were preparing to start the pick-up round, Nellan whispered, "When you get to the first or second cell, cause a distraction with the guy there. It'll pull the guard away from the monitoring station long enough for me to check the computer."

The princess nodded and pushed the heavy cart back up the cell block. Nellan stopped and knelt down just past the monitoring desk, fiddling with the closure on her boot. The catch didn't seem to want to work and she cursed softly as she worked with it.

A clatter and loud words jerked her head up. Leia was at the second cell, having a tug of war with the prisoner inside over possession of the tray. As they began shouting angrily at each other, the cop on guard, rose and yelled, "Hey! Quiet down over there!" When there was no noticeable abatement in the noise, and in fact other prisoners were joining in the ruckus, the cop left his post and marched determinedly in their direction.

Nellan darted behind the computer station and quickly punched in the proper access code and the request for information she wanted, all the while nervously keeping an eye on the guard who was arguing with Leia and the prisoner. It seemed to take forever to retrieve the proper data and she noted it quickly and cleared the screen.

Then she joined the gathering at the cell, demanding of Leia, "What the hell are you doing?! Can't you even pick up an empty tray without startin' trouble?"

Leia glared at her. "He wouldn't give it to me!"

"I wasn't through eatin'!" growled the burly man inside.

"You had plenty of time!" Leia shot back.

"Bitch!"

"Son-of-a--"

"Alright, alright--" interjected the cop. "That's enough. Everybody shut up!! You two, pick up the rest of them trays and get out of here. Now!"

Grumbling, the two women moved off and quickly and efficiently retrieved the breakfast trays from the rest of their route. At one point, Leia whispered, "What did you find out?"

"They're moving him. We've got to hurry!"

"Where?"

"Tell you on the way. Hurry!"

Pushed to urgency, they finished their circuit and returned the tray to the kitchen access. There, they abandoned the cart and hurried through the kitchen.

"Hey!" yelled the kitchen matron. "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

"We quit!" Nellan shouted back and the two young women sprinted through the back door.

Han was waiting in the truck, the motor running, nervously whistling through his teeth while trying to act like he was filling out paperwork. The two women vaulted into the truck cab and Nellan snapped, "Step on it!"

Solo slammed the truck in gear and gunned it. The repulsors whined in protest, but after a second they kicked in and shot the truck down the alleyway at a decidedly unsafe speed.

"Where to?" he asked once they were finally into the traffic pattern and moving away from the detention center.

"The spaceport. They're moving Pacu up to an Imperial ship for further interrogation," Nellan answered. "We've got to intercept them before they get on that shuttle."

Solo nodded grimly and pressed the vehicle for more speed. The automatic traffic control beacons caught them, however, and prevented the truck from exceeding the speed limit. Han groused to himself and kept the vehicle at the maximum speed.

At last, they reached the spaceport exit and cruised along the perimeter road looking for the gate to the military section. Comeral Spaceport stretched for miles across the plains outside the capital city and was divided into several sections. The commercial passenger liners and freight companies occupied a sizeable portion of the port with all their attendant businesses and warehouses.

The military section took up most of the rest of the port. The perimeter road ran alongside the fence and was lined by customs buildings, warehouses, one­story offices and industrial complexes. Han turned the truck down this road and they cruised along, searching for the police van that might be carrying Pacu Benzin.

Suddenly, Nellan pointed and said, "There! Thank the Maker! I thought we'd missed them!"

There was indeed a police van pulling off the road and down between two buildings, heading for the rear access of one of them.

"Yeah," Han agreed. "I hope that's the one. They must be picking up prisoners or something. We're gonna need somethin' faster than this heap," he mused, referring to the bread truck.

He turned down the street the police van had taken, just in time to see the van take a left behind one of the buildings. Han drove past the alley and on down the street a bit, as if they had every right to be where they were. At the next turn-in, however, he whipped the delivery truck in behind the nearest building and pulled up to the loading dock. There, he shut off the engine and said, "Okay, everybody out."

Leia was already checking her sidearm and Nellan pulled a lethal looking pocket blaster from her coveralls. "We don't have the forces to make a direct assault," Han said grimly. "We're gonna have to try to triangulate our fire and pick them off then grab that van and blast outa there."

Leia nodded her approval of the plan. "Set for heavy stun. I don't want to kill anyone unless we have to."

Solo and Nellan nodded silently and the trio moved stealthily between the buildings towards where the police van was parked. It struck Han that the office/warehouse complex was suspiciously quiet and he mentioned the fact to Nellan.

"Where is everybody?" he asked edgily.

She gave him a lop-sided grin and answered, "Offday, silly. What, you think everybody works ten days a week?"

He shrugged. "So, shoot me. How the hell do _I_ know what day it is? I'm still on ship time."

"Quiet!" Leia hissed from in front of them.

They caught up to where she was peering around the comer of a building towards the van. She drew back from her reconnoitering and said, "I think I can make it to behind that trash container without being seen. That will get me in closer and at a different spot from you two."

"Better let me go there," Nellan whispered. "My blaster has less range than yours."

In assent, the princess jerked her chin in that direction and Nellan faded silently around the comer, keeping low and next to the building until she was safely behind the large trash receptacle. Once there, she looked around and nodded, then turned back towards the van. Standing between it and the back of the building were a local spaceport cop, a man in Imperial uniform, and two stormtroopers with guns at ready. No doubt there were more inside.

Leia had assessed the situation. "We'll have to wait until they all come out. If they hole up in there, we'll never get to the van."

"I agree," Han answered. "Shhh, something's happening. Get ready."


	7. Chapter 7

The only cover here was the corner of the building they were hiding behind, so Leia crouched down and aimed her blaster towards the group. Han stood over her in the same position, both ready to open fire.

The back door to the other building flung open and a scruffy group of about half a dozen men were shoved out by an Imperial officer and another stormtrooper. The men were complaining loudly but none were in binders or restrained. The Imperials began to herd them towards the back of the police van, ignoring their protests.

"Goddamn press gang," Han whispered. "Let's just hope that the local goons decided to kill two mynocks with one stone and that your Pacu's on that truck."

"Just get ready to fire," she hissed back.

Han shut up and drew a bead down on the nearest stormtrooper. At that precise moment, as inevitable as death and taxes, his nose began to tickle with that awful, absolute certainty that he was going to sneeze and there wasn't a thing in the world he could do about it. He tried, anyway, pinching his nostrils together, vigorously rubbing his upper lip with his finger, and contorting his face in a vain attempt to stop it.

Giving up, he turned away from the comer of the building, putting his whole hand over his nose and mouth, and waited for the explosion, hoping to make as little noise as possible. Leia looked around at him, her face frozen in the horror of what was about to happen.

"Han, don't—" she began, too late.

"Ahhh--ahhhh--CHOOOO!"

Every head in the group around the police van snapped in their direction.

In fury, Leia whipped back around and opened fire. Nellan joined her an instant later and Han, making a quick swipe at his runny nose with the back of his hand, opened up a couple of seconds after her with his big bore military blaster.

Pandemonium ensued as the prisoners scattered or dropped, and the Imperials tried to simultaneously reach cover and return fire. There was no time to aim neatly and the Rebels took down the prisoners as well as their captors. One of the stormtroopers and one of the officers escaped the initial onslaught and took shelter behind the van, popping off shots in Han and Leia's general direction.

Nellan slipped from behind the trash container and moved quickly to the off side of the van. Silently, she edged to the front end and around, coming up behind the two Imperials.

Her needier took out the officer and, when the stormtrooper whipped around to face his new attacker, Han's shot knocked him backwards and into the dust. For a long moment, silence hung in the air along with the dissipating ozone of the blaster shots, then the prisoners on the ground who hadn't been shot began to stir, looking around to make sure the coast was clear, and warily climbed to their feet.

Han and Leia emerged from their cover as well and hurried toward the police van, blasters still at ready just in case. "You guys alright?" Han asked the group.

"Yeah," answered one big, stocky man. "What the hell happened? Who are you?"

"Never mind," Solo replied. "Just stand clear."

He aimed a blaster shot at the lock on the van doors and they sprang open with a clang. Inside were about half a dozen bewildered looking men, blinking in the sudden sunlight.

"You guys -- pile out of there and run for it if you know what's good for you!" Han ordered.

"Here," the big man instructed his fellows. "Give a hand to help our mates before this lot comes 'round." There was a quick scramble as the men in the van tumbled out and the whole group of prisoners disappeared in all directions, the healthy helping the wounded.

All but one, however, for sitting at the very back of the van was a thin, pale man with a shock of unruly colorless hair. He appeared barely conscious and oblivious to the activities of the previous few moments.

"Is that him?" Han asked Leia just as Nellan clambered into the van and rushed to embrace him, crying, "Pacu!"

"Does that answer your question?" the princess retorted. She climbed up into the van and went to the couple. "How is he? Can he speak?"

Nellan drew back and held her brother's face between her hands. "Pacu! It's Nellan! Can you hear me? Talk to me!"

He stirred and his glazed eyes came to rest on her face. "Nell ..." he murmured. "Nell... How..."

"It's okay. Friends -- from the Alliance. Are you all right? What did they do to you?"

"Drug..." he mumbled. "Make me talk..."

"We've got to get him out of here," Leia said. She addressed herself forcefully to the young man. "Pacu -- I'm Leia Organa. You were to meet me yesterday and transfer supplies. Do you remember?"

His head lolled in her direction. "Princess. Yes. Captured."

"Yes," she answered. "Don't worry." She patted his shoulder and stood up, walking quickly back to Han. "Okay, let's take care of these."

She hopped down and moved toward the Imperials still unconscious on the ground around them. "Take care of them?" Han repeated warily. "What do you have in mind?"

"I want them where they won't be able to raise an alarm for quite a while," she said. "Help me drag them inside and give them another heavy stun that will keep them out."

Nellan left her brother long enough to help them quickly move the men inside the building. There didn't appear to be anywhere to lock them up and they didn't want to waste the time searching for one, so they left them in an inner room, administered the necessary stun blast, and then Han used his blaster to further seal the door from the outside. It wouldn't stand up to a determined assault to break it down, but possibly it would give them enough time to make their escape.

The police van was not hampered by the speednet activator that kept commercial and private vehicles at or under the speed limit and they made good time returning to the warehouse district. Han maneuvered the van to the storage cell they sought, backing up to the warehouse door, then he shut off the engine and got out. Leia and Nellan were helping Pacu. He still looked groggy but appeared to be recovering somewhat as they walked him around in the fresh air.

"Come on, come on," Han insisted nervously. "Let's get this thing open and those medical supplies loaded! I want off this planet double quick!"

Leia gave him a hard look but turned to the young man and asked, "Pacu, how are you feeling? Can you do your job? Can you open this lock?"

"Yes, just give me a moment to think... Clear my head," he answered and knelt down before the door, concentrating. After a moment, he began to punch in the code sequence that deactivated the fusion lock, his hand shaking slightly but not hesitating. What seemed like an hour passed before the orange lights on the lock all blinked blue and the unmistakable sound of magnetic seals opening could be heard.

Pacu sat back wearily on the pavement, sweat streaming down his face. Weakly, he waved a hand at the door and it was clear that he had used the last of his strength. Nellan helped him to stand and took him around to the van cab where he could rest.

Han and Leia didn't waste any time in rolling the door up and stepping into the private storage facility ... and stopped dead in their tracks at what they found.

Angrily, Solo whirled toward the princess and demanded, "Medical supplies, huh"!"

"Han -- I didn't know!" she insisted. "Honestly, I didn't!"

"Right!" he spat back and turned to survey the stacked guns and ammunition, blasters and grenade launchers, gas bombs and incendiary devices that filled the little warehouse. "You never said anything about gun running, Your Worshipfulness!"

In answer, her face settled into the hard, no-nonsense mask of command. "All right, Captain! That's enough! I give you my word that I came here for medical supplies for the base and -- if you'll shut up and use your eyes -- there they are stacked against that wall. As for these weapons, they are a windfall that we will not ignore. The Alliance can use them and the Comeral network has obviously gone to great trouble and danger to get them for us. Now, get that loader going. We don't have much time."

Han glared at her for a moment, then nodded and said, "We load the medical supplies first. We may have to cut and run at any time and they get priority."

The princess nodded once, her face still hard. "Agreed. Let's get busy."


	8. Chapter 8

Nellan joined them in a few minutes and the three of them worked as fast as possible to get the supplies loaded into the back of the police van.

But not fast enough, for before half an hour had passed sirens could be heard wailing down the flyway toward the warehouse district.

"All right, that's it," Han snapped tensely. "The game's up. They've tracked the transponder in this truck. Leia, you and Nellan get in the cab and get the engine started. I'll be there in a few seconds."

The two women shoved the last few weapons in the back and slammed the door, then bolted for the van's cab. Han checked the latch on back of the van and then ran into the warehouse. Looking hastily around, he found what he wanted -- a timed detonator. He quickly set the timer and tossed the detonator among the pile of still unloaded ammunition, then slammed down the door of the warehouse and sprinted for the truck.

As he squeezed in beside Leia and took the wheel, she raked him with an anxious gaze. "What were you doing?"

"Making sure that the Imps don't get their hands on that stash," he answered and floored the accelerator. "Hang on."

The van careened down the alleyway and hit the street at the opposite end just as two police units were turning in. Han turned the lights and siren on and barreled straight at the oncoming police cars. Automatically, they got out of his way and he shot past them. In the rearview mirror, he could see them fishtail to a halt and whip around to follow him.

They turned onto the beltway heading toward the commercial docking bays and Han snatched up the com link on his utility belt. "Chewie!" he yelled into it. "Chewie, come in!"

After a few seconds, the Wookiee's acknowledging howl came through.

"Shut up and listen to me!" Solo snapped back. "Get the engines warmed up and the cargo ramp down! We're headed your way with the cops on our tails! Get ready to blast out of there the second we're on board! Don't call for clearance or-- _Shit!!_ "

The truck rocked drunkenly as a massive explosion split the air behind them. Han fought to keep the van under control and finally succeeded. Leia, Nellan and Pacu were craning their necks at the mushroom cloud billowing up back where the storage warehouse had been. Han checked the rearview on his side of the van and saw that one of the pursuing police cars had been blown off the road, but the other one had recovered and was bearing down on them.

"Goddamn," Han commented succinctly.

Something thunked on the roof of the truck, causing them all to start and stare up in confusion. Then a fine rain of debris was falling all around them, punctuated by louder thuds as bigger chunks hit home.

"Goddamn," Han repeated and drove on at a breakneck speed, dodging the sparse traffic on the road. Most were pulling out of the way for the police van, its lights and siren still blaring.

Their turn appeared just ahead and Han yanked the wheel of the van viciously to the left, causing the vehicle to nearly overturn as they whipped around the comer at full speed. The women gave startled cries and Pacu went even paler. Sweat was pouring down Han's face, as well, as he fought to keep the van under control. White-knuckled, he seemed to right the truck by sheer will‑power and their speed barely slowed as they careened down the narrower alleyways between the docking bays.

Behind them, the police car tried the same maneuver with less success. Its driver slammed on the brakes as it screeched into the turn, lost control of the lighter vehicle and slammed into a building bordering the road.

The fugitives barely had time to register it, though, before Han was himself slamming on the brakes and turning them into their own docking bay. The _Falcon_ had never looked more beautiful to Solo's eyes, particularly with her cargo ramp fully down and the shimmer of the idling repulsors distorting the air beneath her bulk.

Maneuvering the van between the ship's landing legs, Han drove up onto the cargo ramp and straight into the ship's hold. As soon as they were inside, he was jumping out of the cab and simultaneously pulling the comlink from his belt. "Okay, Chewie! Close her up and get us out of here!"

The deafening whine of retracting hydraulics immediately filled the hold as the cargo ramp began to close and the roar of the engines built in pitch. Han was working frantically, throwing securing straps over the top of the truck.

"Hurry!" he shouted at Leia and Nellan over the noise. "Get the truck secured before we lift! Tie it down!"

The women grabbed straps and started punching the latches into the locks on the deck. Han ran around and helped them as the ship began to vibrate with incipient takeoff. Somehow, Chewie's voice could be heard saying something over the intercom and Solo yelled back, "Punch it! Punch it!"

The roar of the engines increased in pitch and a peculiar pressure built up as the repulsors opened full-throttle. "Lie down!" ordered Solo at the top of his voice, shoving his passengers to the deck. "Hurry! There's no time to make it to the acceleration couches! Lie down flat!!"

Barely had he spoken when they were slammed into the deck by a monster hand and held there for a bone-crushing eternity of multi-G acceleration. Chewie was obviously not sparing the whip in getting them off Comeral at fastest speed. Eventually, after several eons had crawled past, the weight on them lifted and they could feel the ship's artificial gravity field come on.

Solo didn't wait to see how the others were, but leapt up and pelted toward the hatch to the upper level. He was through it and gone before Leia and the two Comeralis picked themselves up from the hard steel deck.

"Oh, gods, my head!" the princess groaned then pulled her wits together and turned to help Nellan and Pacu. "Are you two all right? Are you hurt?"

"I think I cracked a rib," Nellan winced. "It's okay. Not too bad."

Pacu was groggy and managed to say, "Sick..." before he pitched over and vomited violently. When nothing more would come, he lay back weakly on the deck. "Sorry ... sorry..." he murmured.

"It's okay," Leia soothed him as Nellan wiped his forehead. "Can you get up? Let's get you upstairs to one of the cabins. You'll feel better once you're in bed."

Nellan wasn't much help in getting her brother to his feet, but together they managed to stand and walk Pacu to the lift. As they reached the main deck, they could see Han and Chewie in the cockpit, working frantically.

"Angle those deflectors!" Solo was ordering. "Watch that Star Destroyer coming 'round! The calculations will be up in a second!"

The ship pitched as an explosion burst off to their port side. Chewie howled mournfully, but Solo's flying fingers never stopped their movement over the board. Leia could feel that the _Falcon_ was still accelerating, the main drive open full blast.

Hearing the lift come up, Han glanced over his shoulder for a brief second and snapped, "Hang on back there! We're goin' to lightspeed -- NOW!"

The star drive kicked in abruptly, blasting the freighter past the realms of rational existence and into the swirling void of hyperspace.

For a few seconds, no one moved, then Leia released her pent breath and realized that Nellan and Pacu had likewise been frozen in suspense. "Come on," the princess said. "Let's get him in bed and see to you." They moved off down the corridor to the crew quarters.

Much later, when the sick man had been bedded down and Nellan's ribs taped, when the cargo hold had been cleaned and the star drive was pushing light years behind them like so many miles, Leia returned tiredly to the galley and punched up a hot cup of kleven. Carrying the steaming drink to the banquette table, she slid into the padded circular seat and leaned her head wearily into her hand.

Exhausted to the point of collapse, she tried to review the events of the past few days but her tired brain wouldn't concentrate. She ached all over and felt as if her last strength had drained out of her. After a few minutes, she became aware of someone standing beside her and looked up to find Han watching her appraisingly.

She straightened and did her best to appear alert. "Yes, Captain Solo, what is it?"

"The Princess takes care of everyone, but no one takes care of the Princess," he observed softly, no hint of his usual brashness in his voice.

She blinked. "What are you talking about?" she retorted. "I'm perfectly fine."

He nodded and continued to hold her in his unexpectedly affectionate gaze. "Right. How high do you think your fever is by now?"

"Fever?" she started to protest. "I don't have--"

He reached out and laid his big hand gently against her cheek. "You're burning up, Leia. Don't play games with me." His touch became almost a caress and her dry throat refused to form the words of rebuke she tried to utter. Instead, his eyes held her, the depth of emotion smoldering there nearly overwhelming her.

She blinked again and swallowed, crumbling under the answering cries welling up from her own heart. Then he was pulling back from her a bit, mentally, physically, and moved his hand from her cheek to her arm.

"Come on, Princess," he said in that same soul­stirring voice. "Let's get you to bed before you fall right over on your face." He drew her to her feet and his closeness, the warm, masculine presence of him, made her head swim. _No_ , she thought desperately to herself. _Not him. It can't be him_. But, as he slipped his arm in support around her shoulders and escorted her down the corridor to her quarters, she found herself leaning against the steady, reassuring strength of his side and sliding her arm around his waist in answer.

* * *

Leia burrowed deeper into her blankets, her head pounding, her nose clogged, and rasping, throat­searing coughs racking her body. They had been back at the base for three days now and the flu that she had fought off so valiantly had seized her with a vengeance. Vaguely, she wished a variety of plagues on the Alliance command for choosing this particular rain-soaked rock ball. Whose idea had this been, anyway?

Just as she was pondering ways to end her suffering, without exerting too much of her neglible energy in the process, the door to her quarters burst open and Han Solo entered carrying a tray, upon which rested a large bowl of steaming soup and a spoon.

"Up and at 'em, sweetheart," the pilot announced with deliberate glee. "Let's get this soup down you and you'll be rarin' to go in no time!"

Leia groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.

THE END


End file.
